


the distance between two points (of me and you)

by yxrtyu



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - No COVID, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crushes, Drinking to Cope, Established Relationship, Heavy Drinking, M/M, Not Cheating, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Post-Time Skip, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:35:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29302044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yxrtyu/pseuds/yxrtyu
Summary: “I’m sorry about all of this,” Tsukishima says, sounding more torn over everything than Tobio really feels. Or maybe just about the same. “I never meant to hurt you.”Tobio wants to argue that he didn’t, that he told him ahead of time, but doesn’t. If you jump off a cliff, does it matter if you face down towards the ground or up towards the sky? Does it matter if your eyes are open or not?Tsukishima ends up catching feelings for someone else. Kageyama becomes quiet.
Relationships: Kageyama Tobio/Tsukishima Kei, Tsukishima Kei/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 149





	the distance between two points (of me and you)

**Author's Note:**

> I was reminded of a difficult period during my relationship while reading Horimiya, and then I just spat this out on google docs.
> 
> I will have more to say at the end of this, but in the meantime, please enjoy.

“I think I have a crush on my coworker.”

Tobio freezes in the middle of brushing his teeth. His eyes shift to the reflection of the bedroom in the mirror where he can see Tsukishima already lying down on the bed with his broad back facing towards him. He breathes and continues brushing for a bit, makes sure he gets his back molars, then spits at a time more when it feels right, less than him feeling clean and satisfied. 

“Oh, yeah?” Tobio replies evenly. He cups a hand under the running water and leans forward. Gargle. Swish. Spit. Rinse the sink of toothpaste. The water swirls around the drain, minty foam turning water cloudy white, to milky, to clear. 

“It’s really fucking stupid. It doesn’t make any sense,” Tsukishima groans as he smashes a pillow against his face. He says something else, but his voice comes out muffled. 

“When does anything ever make any sense?” he calls out. Tobio continues watching the water go down the drain before holding his breath and splashing his face with water. He pumps facial cleanser, applies it to his face, making sure to scrub over the entire surface area, even his problematic dry T-zone Miwa-nee scolded him about or whatever it is. His nose begins to sting, and he covers his face with his hands.

He hears Tsukishima gasp heavily after attempting to suffocate himself for almost thirty or so seconds. “I’m serious. I compare this guy to you, and he’s really fucking lame.” There’s a sound of a body falling back on the bed and another drawn out, embarrassed groan. “You’re way better. Miles. Leagues. Lightyears.”

Tobio lets out a breath and bends over to wash his face over the sink. With a sniffle, he grabs his face towel and dries himself off. “I bet I am.”

“Don’t let it get to your head, King. I’m just stating facts,” Tsukishima says curtly to Tobio as he approaches the bed, forehead creased and a very displeased frown on his face. It’s mildly adorable, even for a man at the young age of 24, and Tobio can’t help but grin as he reaches over to squish Tsukishima’s cheeks with a hand. The crease only deepens.

“Please, tell me how I’m way better. Give me an ego boost,” Tobio says because god, does he really need one right now.

Tsukishima squints at him in a way that’s almost careful, as if sizing him up to see how he can best build Tobio back up. Tobio would find the situation funnier with the other man looking like a goldfish, except there’s nothing funny about hearing how your lover might possibly be interested in someone else. Tsukishima’s hand grips Tobio’s wrist and pulls it away from his cheeks. 

“Well, for one, you’re way stronger.” With a straight face, Tsukishima smacks the inside of Tobio’s thigh with his free hand then squeezes it. “I mean, his thighs are twigs compared to yours. Even when compared to mine.”

Tobio bursts out laughing, both from the ticklish feeling from Tsukishima’s fingers tracing circles on his thighs and skittering up his torso to the sides of his ribs where he’s overly sensitive, and from how deadpan yet very earnest Tsukishima was. There are more reasons, something about how the other man really likes idols and has a lame sense of humor and is easily the butt of jokes and how he can’t give Tsukishima what Tobio gives him in banter, in motivation, in looks, in love.

“Still, you were the one who told me that feelings don’t make sense and can happen out of nowhere sometimes,” Tobio says a little out of breath from his laughing fit. He looks into gold, watches it drip, sees the emotional turmoil and the 1,000 apologies like ships sailing in them to reach to where he is. Sighing, he reaches over and brushes away the wetness on Tsukishima’s cheekbones. “It’s okay, you know.”

Tsukishima’s jaw clenches, reinforces the sharpness of his angles that look like they could cut. “It’s not. It’s stupid. The other guy is a fucking idiot, honestly. I don’t even know why I would develop any sort of attraction or feeling towards him.” He buries his face in Tobio's stomach, and Tobio can feel his shirt dampen as a chord strikes in his heart.

Resting his head against the headboard, Tobio idly wonders if it’s his fault as he runs his fingers through Tsukishima’s hair.

“I’m kind of disappointed, though. I thought you would at least go for someone who’s way better than me. It’s kind of killing me inside to know you’re falling for someone who is lame,” Tobio teases instead, not wanting to say how he really feels. 

“Right!?” Tsukishima says as his head shoots up, tears still fresh like morning dew and cheeks ruddy. 

Tobio recalls a late night conversation in a college dorm bed that is not large enough to fit two men over 180 cm. Tsukishima was skinnier, Tobio just played on the 2016 Japan National Team, and things were okay. Good even. “It is what we both agreed about.” 

There’s clarity in Tsukishima’s eyes that widen. “Right. I did bring up the point if there was ever another person, they’d have to be infinitesimally better. Not just by a little bit.” Tsukishima sighs and lays his head again on Tobio’s stomach. The weight is almost comforting, almost permanent. His arms wrap around Tobio’s waist and squeeze without stopping, as if reminding Tobio that he is here now. “I’m sorry.”

Tsukishima stops squeezing after a while. Tobio continues to card through golden locks of hair that slip through his fingers along with something else.

“We’ll be fine, Kei. Just let me know when you fall in love with the other guy, okay?”

* * *

They were not fine.

Kei could feel him and Kageyama drifting further apart everyday the more he thought about his stupid coworker at the museum with his stupid love for Korean idols and his stupid smile and how he was actually more than competent at his job compared to everyone else. He fucked it all to hell, he knows, but if he and Kageyama can handle a long distance relationship of two hours and then another with an eight hour time difference, an ocean, and an extremely large land mass between them, they can definitely handle this minor hiccup. Besides, what relationship does not go through its own hardships? What’s life without them?

Though, Kei decides that this is one problem he does not need in his life. 

He watches from where he’s standing as Fujii Yoichi, the problem, begins a group at the starting point of the tour. The kanji for his first name is very fitting, his presence lighting up the room and warming the group as they listen intently, growing more interested as the introduction goes on and on. Then, with a smile, he gestures to Kei, and when their eyes meet, Kei finds himself melting. 

They break eye contact because Kei has to do his job and finally begin the tour, takes the time to introduce himself and instruct everyone to follow him to the next room where he will be reciting the program he now knows by heart, but he steals one more glance and sees Fujii momentarily stunned, like the breath is knocked out of him, before a fond smile settles upon his lips.

_A friendly slap on his back. “Tsukishima-san!”_

_Silly hand games during break to rouse a sense of primary school nostalgia. Hands that are soft and well-taken care of instead of hardened by sport, that hold his and compare hand sizes._

_A hand on the small on his back that lingers a little bit too long._

_A hand runs through his hair and scratches his head before settling upon his neck, warm like the afternoon sun. “Tsukishima-san, time to get you home.”_

Kei turns away while rubbing the back of his neck and wishes he wasn’t an idiot falling for people over tiny gestures that are supposed to mean nothing.

* * *

(Tobio is young, 18, naive, and really likes Tsukishima Kei, who is also young, 19, far from naive, and likes him just as much back, but he realizes as they get older some things just don’t last forever. Many relationships around them would get together or fall apart, moreso falling apart than getting together. It happens so often that Tobio wonders as he looks over to Tsukishima playing some endless runner phone game if forever could apply to them. He would like it to. 

Flipping on his side, Tobio slips a hand underneath Tsukishima’s shirt, feels soft, warm skin and toned abdominal muscles, reaches to where Tsukishima’s heart is and rests his hand there, the steady drumming knocking against him. 

“If you think you can end my streak with your attempt at seduction, you’ve got another thing coming,” Tsukishima says, still engrossed in the game, thumbs quickly swiping this way and that so that the character on the screen can dodge and attack. 

Tobio only leans in and nuzzles his nose against Tsukishima’s shoulder, eyes falling shut as he inhales his scent he had grown accustomed to within the last year. “What if you find someone else?”

The thumbs stop swiping, and the character ends up dying. Putting his phone underneath his one pillow, Tsukishima turns his head to look at him as he grabs onto his hand underneath his shirt. 

“What makes you think that?” Tsukishima asks with his brows furrowed. 

“I’m not saying I want you to. I mean—"

Tobio frowns as he tries to figure out how to say what he wants to say. It is not easy being able to bring up something so heavy in something that’s barely a year old, but Tobio finds it important, especially from watching the train wreck that was Miya Atsumu and Shinsuke Kita from afar and the absolute toxic disaster of his sister and her girlfriend in which they became the worst possible versions of themselves. 

“I want to know if you end up liking someone else. Before anything happens.”

Understanding immediately settles in Tsukishima’s eyes because Tobio knows that Tsukishima knows what has gotten him thinking this way. “Same goes for you, King,” he says back as he switches to lying on his side, easily sliding a leg in between Tobio’s as if it is meant to be there. “I would like to know beforehand, too.”

Tobio tilts his head up and finds that they are a breath away. He cannot imagine being here with anyone else, and he hopes Tsukishima doesn’t see anyone in his place, either.

“Though if we do find someone, they can’t be worse than us. Only better. Like, 1,000 times better in every single way. Looks, personality, everything.” A rueful smile appears on Tsukishima’s face that makes Tobio reach out to touch with his fingertips, to press against lips that he wants no else to taste. “It’d make me feel good to know that it was me that was lacking.”

Fingers make their way to soft golden eyelashes, feels them brush against him like butterflies. “Why better and not worse?” 

“Ugh, if you found someone worse, I’d be really mad. Like, I’d question your ability in choosing partners.”

Tobio slides a finger against a sharp cheekbone and finds it does not hurt. Tsukishima takes a hold of his hand and kisses his palm. Then golden eyes meet his and Tobio feels that pull to fall right over and close his eyes. How can he find anything better than what he has right here?

“Okay. No matter what. We tell each other,” Tobio whispers as he falls into Tsukishima.

He selfishly hopes Tsukishima doesn’t find anyone.) 

Tobio is now 24, less naive, so in love with Tsukishima Kei that he realizes Tsukishima is his own person who can make his own decisions, even if it means leaving Tobio. Tobio is not one to force anyone to stay, especially if they’re unhappy. It is then he realizes how much he loves Tsukishima, that he is willing to forego his own happiness so long as the other is happy. 

Still, he’s only human, selfish and possessive. It hurts to know what he now knows, but there’s nothing else to do except to keep going as if everything is normal. 

* * *

There is nothing normal about this whole fuckery that is Kei having a dumb crush on a lame ass colleague who touches him so easily, as if they were lovers and not him and Kageyama. Fucking Fujii and always bringing up some Korean idol and showing Tsukishima some stream of some VTubers (which he willingly admits are pretty funny to watch) and being able to easily set himself up for jokes without fail. Sure, he’s good looking enough for Kei to possibly consider if he were single. Except he’s not. He is taken. And, apparently, so is Yoichi. 

Complete fuckery this entire thing is. 

“I’ve been with him since high school,” Yoichi says as he flips the meat in the pan in front of them. “High school sweethearts, you know.”

No, Kei does not know nor does he want to know. The last pair of high school sweethearts he personally knew, Yamaguchi and Yachi, ended up separating just last year, and everyone thought they would last forever. Even himself, one of the biggest skeptics of love before Kageyama. 

The meat sizzles and the lively chatter in the restaurant reaches its max volume with all the office workers eating dinner and drinking with each other, including Kei and Fujii. It’s a nice distraction for a while, but Kei figures he ought to say something.

“Are you having problems?” he asks.

Fujii smiles bitterly as he watches the meat intently. Kei also looks at the meat and notices they should be taken out now if he wants it rare, but Fujii has the tongs. 

“No, I’m just going through my quarter life crisis, you know?” Fujii tells him while still looking at the pan. 

“Fujii-san, the beef tongue and the hangar steak are going to be well done at this point,” Kei can't help but interrupt. 

“Oh!” Fujii scrambles to reach over and starts to serve both cuts that now look almost to the point of inedibility. “Sorry. I usually like my beef tongue and brisket crispy and my steak at least medium well.”

It’s another fact to Kei’s ever growing list of “Why Fujii Yoichi is Lame”, but seeing him serve and become all flustered has him smiling instead of scowling. He decides to ignore the not-so-fun fact for the sake of being polite and to take the conversation seriously.

“Are you not sure about him?” Kei asks as he tries to salvage the overcooked food with one of the sauces.

“I am, but we’ve been together for so long that it makes me wonder if I’m missing out.” At that, Kei looks up to meet Fujii’s eyes and sees something dangerous, like if he were to look too long, he might not return. “You know what I mean?”

Kei doesn’t really know what he means at first. He’s only been with Kageyama for almost five years now, and Kageyama is not his first boyfriend. But he thinks of Kageyama, who has not been with anyone else, who chose him and still continues to choose him for god knows what reason, and wonders if he’s keeping him from something. 

“Yeah,” Kei finally agrees. 

They eat more meat, they drink more beer, Kei feels less stiff and more comfortable now that he loosened his tie, and Fujii finally breaks the tension with the liquid courage. 

“I like you, Tsukishima-san.”

Kei pauses mid chew. He contemplates how to go about his answer, and the one he wants to say feels sticky, like he would be forcing it out and scraping it off his tongue. So he swallows and chooses the worst option that is the point of no return.

“I like you, too, Fujii-san.”

* * *

Tobio watches Tsukishima, who is absolutely relieved and very tipsy, from the doorway in a mix of amusement and slight irritation. 

“So you got rejected?”

“Yeah,” Tsukishima tells him mid laugh as he throws his tie into the hamper. “We both confessed, then I asked him if he would be willing to try anything, and he said his partner isn’t open to things like that.” 

He shrugs off his work shirt and throws that into the hamper, leaving his under tank that shows arms he worked hard in getting that Tobio wants to appreciate except he can’t. Instead, all he sees is those arms wrapped around a body to a person whose face he cannot see. 

“He was surprised you would be okay with it, though.”

Tobio blinks, and it’s just Tsukishima. He looks at him and feels like he’s so far away. “You’re not mine, like you’re some kind of dog to own."

Tsukishima smirks at him, and Tobio feels nervous, a heat at the bottom of his belly stirring awake, which he considers is a very good thing if he can still feel that way. “That’s not what you said last weekend.”

Tobio rolls his eyes and throws his towel at him. “Shut up. And please go bathe. You stink of cigarettes and meat.”

“Come in with me?”

“No, I went almost an hour ago before you came home.”

Tobio then turns to leave the bedroom until he feels those strong arms wrapped around him, one around his waist and the other across his chest with a hand on his shoulder. Him instead of a stranger. Behind him, Tsukishima is still, his nose buried in the space between Tobio’s neck and shoulder. He feels nails digging into his skin, knows indents will form, and sighs as he reaches with his own hands up to caress Tsukishima’s wrists before linking their fingers together.

“I’m sorry about all of this,” Tsukishima says, sounding more torn over everything than Tobio really feels. Or maybe just about the same. “I never meant to hurt you.”

Tobio wants to argue that he didn’t, that he told him ahead of time, but doesn’t. If you jump off a cliff, does it matter if you face down towards the ground or up towards the sky? Does it matter if your eyes are open or not? 

“I know,” Tobio says softly into the hallway. 

He lets Tsukishima grip onto him painfully, takes this as a sign that he is still fighting to be here, and feels the tears fall onto his neck.

* * *

Everyday with Kageyama feels like Kei is fighting some unknown force that further drives the wedge between them. It doesn’t seem like it at first, waking up next to each other, eating breakfast together, Kageyama telling Kei to have a good day at work, texting each other silly things like pictures of animals and funny memes, Kageyama greeting Kei at the door, working out together, eating dinner together, cuddling on the couch as they watch a movie or a TV show, and falling asleep in each other’s arms. Nothing seems out of the ordinary. 

But still… Kei can’t help but feel something is wrong. And he definitely knows it is his fault. 

Leave it to him to screw up the one good thing in his life.

And now it has come for the one good thing in his life to leave for Tokyo after a month of rest before he has to start training for the 2021 Summer Olympics with the national team.

The car ride is quiet on the way to the train station where Kageyama will board the _shinkansen_ that will take him two hours away from Kei. Traffic is light at night, the occasional car flashing its beams as it passes by. The cherry blossoms have long since fallen, and the transition of April to May has given rise to warmer weather and spring green after a long winter. Kei looks over to Kageyama, who is driving his car, eyes on the red light in front of them, and still feels cold despite having his hand in his. He squeezes his hand, hopes for something, and Kageyama looks at him and smiles. 

“I love you,” Kei tells him. 

Kageyama only squeezes back and raises his hand to his mouth and presses a kiss that lasts the entire red light that changes too fast. 

Kei looks out the window and watches the streetlamps pass by, bright city lights blurring in a swirl of colors, and tries to swallow the knot at the back of his throat. 

Later, when they’re on the platform with ten minutes to departure, Kei stares at Kageyama and is desperate to hold everything together.

“Tobio…” he croaks out as he reaches for his hand again. 

Kageyama turns to him with a question on his face and lets him take his hand, but it does nothing to ease how Kei feels, like he's tiptoeing around. The wedge is still between them, and even though Kageyama is so close, he still feels so far away. Outside, it’s enough to wear a light jacket, but Kei still shivers and craves for warmth. 

“Are we okay?”

And finally, finally, Kageyama shows him a crumpled smile that tells Kei how he truly feels, and Kei’s heart breaks just a little.

“I don’t know,” Kageyama says, voice so impossibly soft, undeservingly so, that it almost gets lost in the night. Midnight blues meet his eyes, and Kei doesn’t know who is lost: Kei in Kageyama’s eyes or Kageyama himself. “I want us to be, but I don’t know.”

“What can I do? Tell me how I can fix this,” Kei pleads as he squeezes his hand once again, crushing fingers that feel like they could crumble in his grasp, turn to dust that can scatter in the wind, but Kei is a stubborn fool, so he keeps his hold on Kageyama. “I love you, you know that right?”

“... I know.” 

That smile turns upside down, and tears gather in Kageyama’s eyes. A breath is inhaled. Time slows, and Kageyama sweeps him into an embrace that warms him up. This is the warmth he has been wanting, not by a clear sun, but by his benevolent King, to be fully enveloped by a man he loves most ardently, has loved since what feels like forever. The right hand fingers his locks, scratches his scalp correctly, and falls on the back of his neck. The perfect temperature, the perfect size, and the perfect pressure. 

But it is a fool’s spring, and Kei is soon left in the cold as Kageyama pulls away from him when the PA announces that the train will leave in five minutes.

“I want to say it back…” Kageyama starts as he wipes the corners of his eyes. “... but please give me some time to get over everything that has happened.” A sad smile graces his beautiful face that looks so foreign. Kei hates it. “But that does not mean I don’t feel anything for you. I feel everything for you with my entire… entire _everything_. And that’s why it hurts a lot.”

There’s five minutes left. Soon it will be two hours in between them. Kei wishes there was more time left to salvage whatever is between them, but his heart weighs him down in his place and prevents him from doing anything. 

‘Useless,’ he screams to himself, for just standing there and staring at Kageyama’s back as he gets on the train. 

‘Useless piece of shit.’ He looks through the window, watches Kageyama stow his luggage and settle into his seat, sending silent pleas through the glass to look back.

Someone answers him, and Kageyama looks at him, continues to look at him as the train pulls away, turns fully around in his seat to watch Kei chase after him only to disappear into the night.

‘You stupid, useless piece of shit.’

Kei looks at the empty space where Kageyama stared at him with wide, sad eyes.

* * *

“Bakageyama-kun, you look stupid.”

Tobio blinks and looks to his left where Hinata, best friend and rival, is stretching out his quads. He narrows his eyes at him and looks away to continue with reaching for his toes. “Shut up, dumbass.” 

“Don’t call me a dumbass when you’ve been looking like one ever since we started training again.” Hinata plops down next to him on the grass and leans into his space, like the ever nosy brat he has been since they were in high school. “I’m serious, Kageyama. What’s with you?”

“Nothing! Get off my ass,” Tobio hisses as he stands to move away from him. 

“Now, now, Tobio-chan. We’re all on the same team this time. Play nice,” Atsumu drawls as he yawns when he walks up to them. “Man, wakin’ up at the ass crack of dawn is never fun. Why are we even here again?”

“Wakin’ up to see your face every day is never fun, but you don't see me complainin’,” Aran retorts from behind him as he cuffs Atsumu up the head. “It’s team buildin’. Suggested by Iwaizumi-san.”

“Iwa-chan!? Seriously!?” Atsumu whines as he cradles the back of his head. 

“I’m fuckin’ with you. It was suggested by the coach.”

Atsumu glares at Aran, who completely ignores him and begins his own warm ups. “You dare blaspheme Iwa-chan’s name in vain!?”

Tobio quickly removes himself from the group that continues to grow in size and volume, opting to stretch alone. He mutters quick morning greetings to everyone that walks past him and just tries to block out the loud voices and intrusive thoughts of Tsukishima and his coworker. However, the universe has other things in mind in the form of his phone vibrating. He pauses, wonders if he should take it out and read it or save it for later, but later they’ll head straight into the gym to take showers and then start drills right away, which means he won’t be able to look at his phone until he gets out around afternoon. Wiping his face with a hand, he sighs and gives in to the temptation and takes his phone out where he sees Tsukishima’s name on it.

“What’d Tsukki say, huh?” Hinata asks out of nowhere, orange hair completely blocking the view of his phone. 

Annoyed, Tobio smacks the back of Hinata’s head, which Hinata doesn’t even flinch from. “He’s going to kill you if he hears you call him that,” Tobio grumbles as he raises his phone to a height that easily insults the shorter man. 

“The dude is literally full of hot air. He could never physically hurt anyone,” Hinata states confidently. 

Tobio’s mind unhelpfully supplies him with “not physically”. “What makes you say that?”

“He’s the younger sibling, and younger siblings are put on this planet to serve their older siblings as their primary purpose.”

“I hope Natsu-chan beats you up.”

A whistle is blown before Hinata can come up with anything. The two of them walk over to the team, now fully assembled with Coach Hibarida and Iwaizumi at the front ready to give a quick pep talk that Tobio does not pay attention to. He takes his phone out and quickly swipes to see Tsukishima’s text:

05:35 **Tsukishima Kei** sent: _Good morning, King. I love you._

It’s the same as it has been every morning since he returned, and he still can’t help but smile at it, is still happy that Tsukishima feels this way, but he still feels the heaviness that presses upon him, feels his smile come out so... forced. Hinata elbows him, prompting Tobio to raise his head to see Iwaizumi leveling him with a stern look. With a sigh, he pockets his phone and tries to pay attention to the coach, but soon his mind drifts back to Sendai.

It isn’t until he’s running next to Iwaizumi and not racing against Hinata like usual along with everyone else nowhere in sight that he realizes he is too deeply affected by everything.

“I’m surprised. It only took you about twenty minutes for you to realize that Hinata sped away from you along with the rest of the team,” Iwaizumi huffs out, feet slapping the pavement at the same rhythm as Tobio’s. “Is there something I should be concerned about, Tobio?”

Is there something? Tsukishima was rejected, Tsukishima told him over and over he never wanted to like the other guy and that he was way better, Tsukishima acted like nothing ever happened between him and the other guy afterwards, that nothing had ever made Kageyama feel like… feel like…

Kageyama slows his running to a stop, chest heaving more than it should. “Is there something wrong with me, Iwaizumi-senpai?”

Iwaizumi, not too far ahead of him, also stops running. “What?”

“Am I… am I not enough?”

There’s a moment of stillness filled with the early birds waking up to call out to each other as a spring breeze courses through the street they’re on. Iwaizumi only looks at him with that same deep set frown he remembers from middle school before he sprints back with an alarmed shout of his name to pick Tobio up from the unforgiving concrete.

* * *

The world flips from sideways to right side up as someone picks Kei up from lying pathetically on the floor and props him up against the wall. He takes a moment to orient himself, lets his eyes adjust to the emergency stairwell’s irritatingly bright fluorescent lights. In here, the music from the club bleeds through the thin walls with the bass speakers overpowering the song, just heavy percussion in sync with his heartbeat and his pulsing head. 

Whoever said drinking when you feel bad is a terrible coping method could shove it up their ass because what better way is there to self-destruct? To be lost in an alcohol haze where thoughts scream and the need to tear your broken heart out and lay it bare where you can watch it slowly beat to death because you were the one to set the sentence? Kei will probably deem later that he was being overdramatic, but right now, what he feels, immense heartache and overwhelming guilt, is here with him now in this forsaken stairwell.

He blinks blearily as Koganegawa, whose eyes are just as glossy and face just as flushed, looks at him with a worried scrunch of his thick brows. 

“Tsukki, I may be completely drunk right now, and I may or may not remember this conversation, but do you want to talk to me? You’ve been drinking nonstop. Like, excessively to the point where I’m worried something’s wrong.”

With what little motor control he has left, Kei knocks his head against the wall, does not feel the pain at all. He’s really not sure what happened after the fourth drink he had or how he even got himself to this club when they were at a bar before. Taking loud, harsh breaths, he tries to look at Koganegawa, but his vision gets blurry. 

“Whoa, Tsukki! Come on, man, talk to me,” Koganegawa says as he puts both hands on his shoulders and steadies him. “You’re kind of scaring me. Do you want me to call Kageyama-san?”

Kageyama Tobio. Currently in his apartment back in Tokyo while he’s here in Sendai drinking with his teammates for someone’s birthday. Born as a little brother, grew up to be starting setter and vice captain of his high school volleyball club, signed a contract with Schweiden Adlers right out of high school, participated in the 2016 Olympics, scouted by Ali Roma, and now training for the 2021 Tokyo Olympics. On top of all of that, his full time significant other whom he loves so fucking much that he hates himself for catching feelings for stupid fucking Fujii Yoichi who only smiled at him and touched him more than he should have, whom Kei wondered about more than he should have. The only thing the man did right was reject him, which was supposed to be a good thing, but he didn’t think he’d be rejected by Kageyama, too. 

“I’m the worst,” he gasps out. “I’m a terrible fucking person.”

“No, you’re not, Tsukki, you’re a great person!” Koganegawa begins to argue, but Kei waves him off. 

“I fucked up. I fucked it all up with Tobio.” Sniffling, he peers up at Koganegawa, who’s having a hard time balancing on his haunches and only looks at him in confusion. “He’s the best thing that ever happened to me, and I fucked it all up.”

Koganegawa doesn’t say anything, only leaves a hand on his elbow and rubs it in a way that soothes Kei a little bit, but he feels inconsolable. Nothing or no one can fix what he broke, but Kei isn’t even completely sure if anything is broken. It awfully feels that way, though, like feeling his world tip off balance. He’s not sure when it really started. Maybe some time after his dinner with Yoichi? Or was it when he first told him? Either way, the distance between him and Kageyama was 100% apparent on the _shinkansen_ platform as the man pulled away from him in a way that spoke volumes about how he was truly feeling during his break spent with him, like he finally was able to be honest after holding himself back. Thinking about it now, Kei wished Kageyama didn’t lie.

But thinking again, he wouldn’t have to lie if Kei wasn’t a goddamn idiot.

“I don’t know what to do,” Kei manages to get out while suppressing his cries at the same time. “I don’t know what to fucking do. I love him so much, but I hurt him so bad.” 

He raises his head to look at the other man who only frowns at him. The look of pity doesn’t stop him like it should if he were sober, but he is drunk enough to probably end up hungover with his head stuck in the toilet the next day and drunk enough not to care how Koganegawa looks at him. Besides, he’s literally a grown ass man crying at 1 AM in some random fucking building’s emergency stairs like he is the lead in some independent romantic dramedy film. 

“I ended up feeling too much for someone else, and my feelings grew too much for it not to be a problem. I let Tobio know right away because he deserved to know.” He takes a deep breath and covers his mouth to trap a sob. Another deep breath, and he lets a shaky hand run through his hair. “And it’s killing me inside because I know that it kills Tobio every single day.”

“Look, I don’t know much about your relationship with Kageyama-san, but it sure says things if you told him before anything happened,” Koganegawa starts right as soon as Kei finishes, or maybe he takes a bit to answer, Kei doesn’t know. Time doesn’t make sense right now. His teammate reaches over and pats Kei on the head a little roughly on the head that has him wincing. “That just shows you both trust each other enough. And yeah, of course it’s going to hurt because no one wants to hear their significant other has someone else in mind, but if you really love Kageyama-san, Tsukki, then this rando will just be a blip on your radar and fade to nonexistence!”

Koganegawa’s disposition still remains the same, even if he’s trashed, and Kei can’t help but shoot him a watery smile. God bless Koganegawa and his neverending enthusiasm and cheerfulness.

“Come on, let’s get you up and into a cab home,” Koganegawa says as he tries to pull him up, but Kei shrugs him off.

“Can I just…” Kei pants and swallows, winces at how dry his throat is. “Can I just stay here for a bit and be a miserable piece of shit?”

Koganegawa laughs and pats him on the shoulder before he opens the door to the club. “Go ahead. I’ll get you water. Just don’t fall down the stairs!”

The man disappears behind the door, leaving Kei all alone with just the bass and his broken heart still beating on.

* * *

The days have gradually gotten longer and warmer, both signs as promises of summer. For many, it means a change of uniform or office clothes, but for Kageyama, it means the Olympics will be here soon. Tokyo seems busier than usual, filled with a mix of tourists from all over the country and the world along with locals traversing its streets. Tobio watches from his window, looks at everyone, from groups of middle aged workers to university students to couples to the lone commuter walking at different speeds with their own destinations in mind. Do these people feel sad? Are they happy? How did they wake up this morning? What did they have for breakfast? What is their last memory of their grandfather? Have they ever been hurt? Have they ever been in love? 

Have they ever thought that the one for them would ever hurt them in a way they didn’t think was imaginable? 

His eyes land on a woman with bright red hair and a black leather jacket walking by herself and imagines a conversation with her.

_“Who were they?” Tobio asks._

_“He was my boyfriend,” she answers._

_“How long?”_

_“Hm… I want to say almost seven years.”_

_“Wow. What happened?”_

_“The same as you. He ended up liking another girl.”_

_“Did he tell you?”_

_“Yes, he did. Right away. Said he didn’t want to do anything. It was just a minor crush. He got over it.”_

_“Did he do anything with her?”_

_“No. He stayed with me and still loved me.”_

_“Did you do anything?”_

_Her breath hitches. “No.”_

_“... Did you wish something different happened?”_

_Wet eyes shine at him. “I wished I stopped doubting myself.”_

Tobio wipes his cheek. “Me, too.”

No one says anything back to him. Just echoes of himself in an empty apartment that feels like nothing without Tsukishima in it.

* * *

Kei’s eyes fly open to see Kageyama’s pillow, untouched since the last night he slept in this bed that feels like nothing without Kageyama sidled up next to him. 

He rolls onto his back, lets the morning sun streaming through his window wake him up gently. It energizes him in a way, has him typing out his usual morning text to Kageyama without him feeling as terrible as before. It’s been awhile since he woke up on a day off like this, raring to take on the world and bare his teeth to it, that he throws the covers off and rushes through his morning routine before he shoves his feet into his sneakers and begins to run. 

There’s no specific place he has in mind, just mindlessly lets his feet take him to wherever. He passes by neighbors, the breakfast cafe he goes to when Kageyama stays over, the bar he reluctantly haunts with his teammates, the park Kageyama would run in, the museum he works at, the karaoke bar where Hinata passed out in the bathroom and where Kageyama kissed him silly outside of, Yachi’s apartment—

He trips over his feet, feels gravity take him hostage, but he luckily catches himself. With his hands on his knees, he takes the time to catch his breath. When his heart rate starts to even out, he looks at his phone and realizes he’s been running for almost an hour and a half, which would explain how he got to Yachi’s. Looking up, he easily pinpoints her apartment by her white curtains billowing in the window that is open, a sign that she’s home. He taps his foot, wondering whether he should ring her, but his impatience wins out and he calls her anyways. 

It takes a few rings before Yachi finally picks up and answers with a tired greeting.

“I’m outside,” he tells her.

A pause. “Wha...?”

“Let me in.”

“What!?”

He stomps over to her buzzer and presses it incessantly, and he hears his handiwork through the phone. 

“Okay! Okay! Stop it!” she yells over the buzzing.

A few seconds later, he hears the click of the entrance door and opens it and runs all the way up the stairs two at a time to Yachi’s door where she stands glaring at him with sleep in her eyes and a mean bedhead. 

“Move, short stuff.”

“Tsukishima Kei, you do not get to be rude to me this early in the morning.”

“It’s 10.”

“Why are you even here?” She squints at him and slaps a hand on his chest that is exposed by his v-neck tee. She yelps in disgust as she wipes his sweat off on his shirt. “Did you run here or something?!”

“Yes, now, please, may I come in?” Tsukishima asks with a reluctant politeness that has Yachi rolling her eyes.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

Tsukishima narrows his eyes at her. “I’ve been to your place tons of times before.”

“Yes, but not this early in the morning.”

“Uh, I have slept over before, so technically, I’ve been here earlier than now.”

“Sure, but I’m still not letting you in,” Yachi says adamantly with a fold of her arms. “Come back in, like, an hour.”

“Hitoka, just let him in. He’s going to find out anyways.”

Kei looks up at the second voice and sees Yamaguchi standing there without a shirt and rubbing his eyes. He looks back and forth between Yachi, now red in the face and with murderous intent in her eyes, and Yamaguchi, who is on the verge of passing out in the doorway.

“You know what?" Kei shakes his head and waves a hand over the two of them. "Tell me later. Let me in. I’m fucking parched.”

Yachi raises a brow at him. Kei rolls his eyes.

“Please.”

Yachi lets out an aggravated sigh and opens the door all the way to let him in. Kei quickly toes off his shoes in the _genkan_ , muttering under his breath “sorry for the intrusion”, and speedwalks to her kitchen. Opening her refrigerator, he browses through the items before his eyes land on the six-pack of beer, and for a split second, he actually contemplates taking a can. 

“Do you have a drinking problem?” Yachi asks from behind him.

Kei rolls his eyes and finally grabs a water bottle. “No,” he lies as he closes the door. With a quick twist of his wrist, he opens the bottle before turning around and leaning against the fridge. Squinting at Yachi, whose glare seems to be permanently affixed, he takes a quick swig of water. “You have something you want to tell me?”

“There’s nothing to tell,” she says back, no quiver or change in her voice to indicate anything. However, her cheeks redden.

“Yamaguchi,” he calls out, eyes still on cheeks that continue to blush. “You have something to tell me?”

All he gets in response is an exhausted groan from the direction of Yachi’s bedroom. 

Yachi sighs as she brings her hands up to her temples to rub circles into them. “It’s… Ugh, okay. We’re kind of sort of working it out again. It’s not… nothing official yet.” She looks away from Kei, a certain shyness falling over her. “But we’re taking it slow for now.”

Kei takes another sip, lets the cold water warm up in his mouth before finally swallowing. “What made you decide to try again?”

She tightens her lips, tucks a lock of hair behind her ears. With a fold of her arms, she looks up at the ceiling as another sigh falls from her lips. Her eyes meet his, and there’s a certain softness that he hasn’t seen in awhile, not since she and Yamaguchi broke up. “It’s really hard, you know, to meet people nowadays despite the amount of apps and mixers and matchmaking parties. I met a lot of different people in the past year. But no one…” she trails off and bites her lip. “None of them were Tadashi.”

“Are you sure it’s not because you two have been together since high school? Because he’s what’s familiar?” Kei asks skeptically as he puts the cap back on. He then presses the water bottle to his cheek, relishes the way his heated skin cools from the contact. 

“Oh, I thought it was because of that, too, believe me.” Yachi, nervous creature since high school, busies herself by braiding her hair that has grown to the middle of her back. “Look, people came and went. Some I got along with, others not so much. Some I really, really liked, but nothing ever came out of it or lasted long because…”

“They were not Yamaguchi.”

Yachi shrugs as she brings the braid to the front to finish it. “I tired to move on. I did. But I guess just being apart from him for almost two years made me miss him all the more.”

Kei moves the water bottle to his forehead and squeezes his eyes close. His throat feels like it closes up as he breathes through his nose, and he tries hard not to break. “And what if Yamaguchi didn’t miss you?”

“Well, what can I do about it? I was just really lucky that he felt the same way I did.”

The water bottle rests against his eyes. He wants to blame the condensation for the drop that makes its way down his cheek, but he’s older now, and he takes full responsibility for everything.

“Tsukishima… are you alright?”

He takes a moment, maybe two, before he removes the water bottle from his eyes. He looks at his friend, who has now taken a hold of his hand and holds it in her much smaller one, thumb brushing the back of his hand in comfort. 

“Yeah. I will be.” He clears his throat and sniffles. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“... Not really, no.”

Because what’s there to say that hasn't been said? Kei can speak of hopes and doubts, of things broken yet unbroken. It won't change the fact that people feel what they feel no matter what is said. Words can sail, but they will never reach shore.

Kageyama is far in the distance, and Kei is stuck skipping stones that fall short and sink.

They stand there, two friends in a sun-filled kitchen with the soft breeze drifting in from her living room window. Kei with a knot in his throat, Yachi holding his hand. Kei thinks about Yachi and Yamaguchi, of the time and space between them, really thinks about it, and finally makes a decision.

“Let me borrow your stationary,” Kei says, suddenly struck with inspiration.

Yachi’s eyes widen and then nods. “Sure."

Letting go of her hand, Kei walks to her office where she keeps an assortment of office supplies, ranging from different colored pens and highlighters to computer paper and stationary. He grabs a random stationary set that is adorned with various Chococat in different poses along with a blue inked sparkly pen and gets to writing.

He writes and writes, reads, shakes his head in dissatisfiction, and crumples the paper. Continues to do so for the next four or five pieces of paper before he finally gets what he needs to say onto the stationary. 

“What are you doing?” Yachi asks as she peers over his shoulder.

“Writing a letter.”

She stands there for a while, reads with him what he has written before wrapping her arms around his neck. 

“I wish you luck,” she whispers with a kiss to his cheek.

* * *

Water dribbles down his chin and onto the floor. He lets his hand that’s holding his bottle to drop between his knees as he grabs a hold of his towel that was draped on his head to wipe the sweat out of his face and neck and releases a world weary sigh into it. 

There’s a couple of weeks before the opening ceremony, and Tobio is still in his too big apartment for one person, his bags still unpacked for the time he will be sleeping in Olympic Village with everyone else. There’s no particular reason why they’re not packed, but there’s no reason compelling him to. There’s also nothing keeping him in this furnished modern apartment either where it screams too loud of the loneliness he feels day to day and everything he touches does not feel like home.

It's in silences like these that he thinks of Tsukishima, of his supposedly silly crush, of Tobio's own faults that he has combed over relentlessly. It's mostly why he hates being here, always opting to go out for a useless errand or to hang out with the team, but his thoughts will haunt him as soon as he comes back. There is no escaping any of it.

But yet, underneath that dull pain in his chest, despite his world crumbling apart, there is still a flame, though diminished in size, that burns strong and true. And Tobio finds himself in between tending to it and letting it all go to ash.

He hates himself for it.

Giving his face one last wipe, he gets up and makes his way to the bathroom when the door to his apartment opens. 

“SADYAMA-KUN.”

With an internalized groan, he lets his eyes fall shut and braces himself, counts slowly to three before he’s assaulted by Hinata’s foot to his back that forces him to fall face down. Grunting in pain, he sits up and is about to curse the man out when an envelope decorated by Chococats with a Chococat stamp in the corner is shoved in his face. Scrawled in sparkly blue ink underneath the stamp is his name and his address. His breath catches in his throat when he immediately recognizes the handwriting.

“Delivery for you,” Hinata says with a wide, knowing grin. 

Tobio can only stare at it, wondering if it’s real or not. After a couple of months of not being able to see Tsukishima in person, to only look at him through video chat once a week and read his texts daily, of pretending behind a screen that he was okay, this envelope is something new, unexpected. Almost like a glimmer of hope.

“Are you going to read it or what?”

Tobio takes it in his hands gingerly, afraid it will fall apart and disappear. “I don’t know. Should I?”

“It’s addressed to you, idiot,” Hinata says before he walks away to store the sports drinks and protein snacks he picked up for them. “Do whatever you want with it. It is yours now.”

He continues to sit in the middle of his hallway and look at the envelope in… awe? Nervousness? Curiosity? Everything put together? He flips it over and sees the kanji for Tsukishima’s name, places a finger to trace each stroke of all the characters and imagines Tsukishima writing it. Two to three months, and this piece of paper is the closest he has felt to Tsukishima, not through phone screen or text or even when they were in the same bed back in Sendai. He can’t explain why he feels this way, just that he does. 

Feelings are, indeed, weird and stupid like that.

Sitting up, he slides a finger in underneath the flap and steadily moves against the adhesive. It’s slow and tedious, but Tobio has placed significance to it now, considering it a token of some sort, and he thinks that he wants to keep it after all is said and done. When it’s open, he takes out the stationary and begins to read.

Once he gets to the end, he pauses, rereads, mulls over the words. Then, after much deliberation, he finally makes a decision, lets those words take space in his heart, and prepares himself to finally leave winter behind and welcome summer.

* * *

In Kei’s heart, there’s only enough space for his family, his friends, a very tiny space allocated for the ex that lasted two years in high school and another for a short-lived summer fling with someone from middle school, but most of it, almost all of it, is occupied by Kageyama Tobio. That’s it. There is no other. Nothing left for Fujii Yoichi. 

When Kei looks at Fujii, still beaming like the summer sun in the sky as he directs visitors, he feels nothing. So he laughs to himself and carries on to wait patiently.

* * *

Japan wins their first three matches so far, which means they automatically qualify for the quarter-finals. The locker room erupts into chaos, with Bokuto violently swinging a shirt around and Hinata being thrown in the air for the last minute dig that saved them. Everyone is pumped and ready for the rest of the games, and discussions of where to celebrate start to take place.

Kageyama takes this moment to retrieve the letter from his bag and reads it again and again. It invigorates him, gives him something to look forward to once the Olympics are over. Smiling, he quickly folds it back up, tuck it into its worn envelope, and packs it away.

"Kageyama!"

Looking up, he sees his teammates beckoning him, telling him to hurry up so that they could all go out to eat. He rolls his eyes before checking his phone to see no messages from Tsukishima as promised.

"Coming!" he yells back as he turns off his phone.

* * *

Kei turns on his phone, sees no messages from Kageyama, and turns it off to resume his attention to the television where the match is about to start. 

Koganegawa’s apartment is crowded with teammates and old high school rivals alike that Koganegawa happened to know. Apparently, he knows everyone because Kei could swear he sees every single person from every single team he has competed against in high school. The watch party for the Men’s Volleyball finals is in full swing with people walking in and out to grab drinks and food, talking amongst themselves about the summer games or to catch up with their lives.

Yamaguchi settles down next to him and gives him a bottle of beer. “Have you spoken to Kageyama at all?”

“Nope,” Kei says before he takes a sip. The beer is cold and crisp, perfect for a hot summer evening. 

“You’re really holding to your word, huh?”

He waits, has been waiting since he sent the letter, and will continue to do so until he does not have to anymore. “Yeah.”

Still, he’s hesitant, a creeping doubt in the back of his mind that maybe this won’t work out, that it was all for naught. That maybe he should give up.

Kageyama, the starting setter for Japan, shows up on the screen as the sports announcer relays his stats and background. There’s a determined look on his face, one Kei has seen countless times as both teammate and as a partner, and he realizes that he’s being stupid for not trusting Kageyama.

Bringing his bottle to his lips, he lets a small smile come onto his face and drinks. 

* * *

Tobio steadies his breathing, focuses on the ball in his hands. With a sharp exhale, he throws the ball up and begins to run.

_King._

His legs are about to give out, and sweat burns his eyes. His chest heaves as he tries to take in more air. Looking around, he sees everyone just as tired as him, but as soon as the whistle blows, everyone gets ready, hungry looks in their eyes and gritted teeth. 

So he pushes off his feet and forges on for one more spike, one more set, one more dig.

_I can say it so many times, but I know that as much as I try, I can’t take away those fears you harbor, the ones you already have and the ones I stupidly put there. They will always be there just as mine will always be with me._

He wants to say he’s disappointed, but he fought so hard and for so long for five tough sets that he can't help but admit that it has to be one of the greatest matches of his life. Tears spring to his eyes as he hooks an arm around Hinata, who hides his face from him and does his best not to cry. Bokuto then joins them, claps a hand on both of their shoulders and yells at everyone that they all did great, they all worked hard, and that they should all be proud of themselves. 

Team Japan slowly picks themselves back up, and together, they all release a battle cry at the stadium ceiling. 

After they shake hands with their opponents, after a bow of gratitude to the other team, to their coaches, to the audience, Tobio looks across the net and sees Oikawa with a softness on his face looking past them. He follows his line of sight to find Iwaizumi, who’s looking back with a similar expression, and Tobio feels like he’s looking at something that is not meant for his eyes. Turning his head away, he remembers sparkly blue words written on a Chococat stationary. 

Within his chest, something stirs to life. He itches to run home.

_They say distance makes the heart grow fonder. And maybe what we need is that. To take the time to rethink our feelings and see if they’re still rooted deeply within us. So, don’t expect to hear from me from now on._

“Wait, how do you even know if he’s going to be there?!” Hinata asks incredulously. “He’s the one picking you up, isn’t he?!”

“If he’s stupidly in love with me, he’d wait there every day for me,” Kageyama says to him as he stuffs his clothes in his duffel bag haphazardly. 

“What!?”

“I’m kidding. I texted him.”

“Wait. Really?”

“No.”

Hinata gawks at him for a whole three seconds before he throws his hands up in the air. “You two are impossible.”

With a zip of his bag, and rushes out of his room and gets a hold of Hinata’s shirt collar. 

“Bwah!?” Hinata squawks out indignantly. 

“I’m leaving, moron.”

“What are you in a rush for?!” 

Tobio throws themselves both out of his apartment and locks his door. He turns to the other man who looks nothing but exasperated as he fixes his clothes. A certain giddiness rushes through him, and he can’t help but smile.

“I have to get home,” Tobio explains as he jogs off.

_But I will say this one last time (for now) in here: you are it for me, you are everything to me. I love you forever._

Two hours feel like ten as Tobio watches the outside scenery whip past him. He’s antsy, nervous, always checking his phone every so often and rereading the letter that has him fill with hope over and over. The sky has finally turned dark, littered with stars across its dark blue canvas. The clock ticks, and each second that passes by, Tobio feels like he’s a bomb about to set off from all the energy he’s holding in.

Then, he hears the announcement of his stop and eagerly leans against the window. He feels the brake, feels how the _shinkansen_ begins to slow down. From afar, he sees the station in view coming up closer until he sees the platform. He tries to look for the telltale shock of blonde hair that he knows anywhere, but the train is still moving too fast that it’s hard to make out anything. Disappointment creeps in, and he’s about to settle back into his seat when his heart stops.

Through the window, he meets familiar golden eyes.

He hurriedly shoulders his duffel and walks to the end of the train car. His heart feels like it's running a marathon and his hands shake as he continues to anticipate what's to come. Nervous energy continues to thrum silently under his skin as he fidgets around with the hem of his shirt, too excited to relax.

Finally, the train stops. The doors open, and Tobio takes a step off the train car and begins to run.

_If you still feel the same after reading this letter, after you play your heart out on that court, find me where we parted at the same time you left on the same day of the week._

He runs and runs, lungs supporting him and muscles pushing for him. He searches the platform, tries to find what he had been missing for so long, what he almost thought he lost, and what he now wants to try and fight to keep. 

And there, at the other end of Sendai station running towards him, is Tsukishima Kei.

He takes this moment to come to a full stop, to remember this Tsukishima, how he looked under the station lights, cheeks flushed with exertion as the other man also stopped to stare at him with wide, hopeful eyes. This is the Tsukishima that loves him even though Tobio turned away from him three months ago. This is the Tsukishima who is sorry, who stayed by Tobio when he turned cold, who continued to fight for them when Tobio couldn’t find it himself to do so.

This is the Tsukishima that, no matter what happened between them, he sorely missed and realized he still loves with his entire _everything_.

He begins to walk, switches to a light jog, feels his bag slowing him down, so he drops it and begins to sprint towards Tsukishima full speed, who does the same. 

And when they finally meet in the middle, after three long months of heartache and loneliness, Tobio casts aside his doubts and throws himself into Tsukishima’s waiting arms.

_And we can pick up where we left off._

“I’m home,” he sobs into Tsukishima’s neck.

“Welcome home, King,” Kei whispers into his hair.

A flame burns brighter than ever in the heat of summer.

**Author's Note:**

> If you have finally reached the end, thank you so much for reading this.
> 
> As for my own personal thoughts, I will say that it is _completely_ okay to develop feelings for someone that is not your partner. It happens, especially if you're in a long term. However, what you do with those feelings can either strengthen or break your relationship. It is up to you and your partner how to move on. With that said, I absolutely do not condone cheating at all whatsoever, emotionally and physically. If a relationship is going sour, you ought to do your best to relay your concerns to your partner. Finding confidence in someone else other than your partner for your relationship problems, especially someone you grow to have feelings for, will usually never end well.
> 
> Again, communication is key. Always always _always_. Then again, whether you want to admit to your partner if you have a crush is up to you and your partner. (Some people want to know, like Kageyama, others don't. Some won't worry, others will have it eat away at them, like Kageyama)
> 
> As for what happened to me, well, I'm still with my partner. So there's that.
> 
> P.S. I always think about _The Perks of Being a Wallflower_ and how Charlie says something about how there are people who always have it worse, but that doesn't change the fact that you feel terrible. Feelings are fickle and can be irrational, but they are yours and yours alone.
> 
> twitter: @__ieatcereal


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